Lyrics Sublime - Mark Kozelek

Sublime

Pretty painting of flowers on the wall
It’s pink and blue and white, and that’s all
There are tuners and cables on the floor
I was listening to David Bowie’s «Tis a Pity She Was a Whore»
There’s an avocado on the microwave
Oh I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you babe
Thanks for sending me sunflower seeds
And my favorite imported Japanese green tea
And a few shirts I left back home
Those look better than these photos
They’re taking here at the mobile recording studio
They’re taking photos I guess, cause I’m getting old
They’re taking photos while they can
Here in room 209, overall things are going pretty fine
Unlike the singer of Sublime who died next to his dog
Down the street when he was in his prime
I walked past the Oceanview Motel the other day
And thought about a lot of things along the way
Like how we used to bring your dog to the beach and play
Like the Musée Mécanique that went away
Like the one time I ate at the Beach Chalet
With some friends I haven’t seen in over a decade
Along the trail, always a beautiful array of California flowers
I wish I knew their names so I could sing them
I could feel the oceans pound
And I felt a light shower always tingling my face
Then I ate lunch and I cleaned my plate
And I headed west back to the Great Highway
Stopped at Java Beach Café
A girl was crying because a homeless guy was mean to her
He yelled, «I'm from El Salvador, motherfucker!»
and he left
I saw surfers run from the avenues fast to catch waves
There’s probably an event
Judging by how many of them were running
And how fast they were running, I’d say
Now I’m watching CNN and there’s Al Gore
Headline: «Do You Think the President Believes in Climate Change?»
Recording here in this hotel room is kinda strange
It’s like a Hitchcock film in here, but it’s a good…
I ran out of words just now, I’ll come up with something fast
That’s how I work, I don’t stick around with nothing long
Now I’m gonna borrow a line from 2Pac to keep things moving along:
He said, «We don’t have the motherfucking luxury
To spend this much motherfucking time on this one motherfucking song»
And the sun’s going down
And the fog covers the Earth
And the sun’s going down
And the fog covers the Earth
And the sun’s going down and the fog rolls through the Earth
Like frankincense and myrrh in a church
And the sun’s going down and the fog covers the Earth
Like a kitty cat foot on your Persian rug
And the sun’s going down and the fog covers the Earth
Like a monstrous spooky ghost
And the sun’s going down and the fog covers the Earth
And my windows are steaming
And the sun’s going down and the fog covers the Earth
Like a big gray thermal shirt on a big man
And the sun’s going down and the fog hovers over the Earth
Like Bon Scott’s soul hovers over Perth
And the sun’s going down and the fog moves through the Earth
Like a bunch of grandmas moving through Woolworth’s
And the sun’s going down and the fog crawls through the Earth
Like a big fat caterpillar crawling through the dirt